Dark Souls: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller: Book 1 (Ravaged World)

by Sam J Fires

  It was hard to tell for how long he had been walking. Days? Weeks? They all blurred together.

  One day, he could walk no further and collapsed into the sandpile letting unconsciousness wash over him like a gentle wave.

  The last thing he saw before he passed out was a pair of boots fast approaching him.

  *

  When the Professor came to, he was startled to discover he was lying on a bed. For a moment, he thought he was lying in his and Diane’s bed, but the feeling of an unfamiliar fabric quickly convinced him otherwise.

  He sat up, alarmed by the presence also in the room. A man sat in a chair wearing a suit. “You’re very lucky we found you when we did,” the man had said. “Any longer and you would’ve been lost to the world.”

  “Lucky me, I guess,” muttered the Professor sarcastically.

  The man had frowned. “I’d have thought you’d be a little more grateful, you know. My men go out every day and risk life and limb to save people like you. They usually come back empty-handed. It’s not uncommon for them to lose their lives along the way. So, a little gratitude is in order, I think.”

  Still reeling from the loss of Diane, the Professor said, “Is this the part where you get me to sign over my soul?”

  The man shook his head. “No, although I am very interested in what you might be able to do for me. We found some interesting papers on your person. Several notes, the kind of notes that tell me you’re more than just some random asshole.” He leaned in closer, his eyes hungry. “So… Maybe you wouldn’t mind letting me pick your brains?”

  Thus began an unsavory partnership that had seen the Professor sell himself into servitude for the relative safety of Travistown and do away with many of his principles along the way. It wasn’t the first time he’d been asked to do things that conflicted with his morality. As the work for Travis became clearer, it felt like he had been here before…

  CHAPTER 9 - SOPHIE

  Sophie went to knock on Travis’s door for the sixth time that week. Sophie had been one of the Block’s longest tenants as well as one of Travis’s earliest supporters, looking up to and always deferring to him. Even in the moments when she couldn’t understand the course of action he was taking, she always reassured herself with the belief that Travis had the best intentions.

  Now that faith was starting to waver.

  She was about to knock again when the door opened slightly. “Yes?” came Travis, who seemed tired, but putting on the effort of the charming salesman.

  “I heard that there was a murder on the outskirts of the city.”

  “Yes,” said Travis solemnly. “One of our farmers. A terrible shame. He was a good man.”

  “I know he was.” Sophie had met Morgan once or twice and he had seemed pleasant enough. “But what I want to know is, what’s being done about it?”

  “I have my best people on the case.”

  Sophie scoffed. “Who? Lea? She’s a child, Travis!”

  “You haven’t seen her in action. I assure you she knows how to handle herself. She could do things with a blade that would make you blush.”

  “Well, that’s all well and good, but do all of those fancy gimmicks make any difference when I’m being threatened by a madman with a knife?”

  “Lea is the only thing between you and that madman,” said Travis earnestly.

  “Well, I don’t feel safe,” said Sophie. “We haven’t got adequate protection from this maniac.”

  “What exactly do you want?” asked Travis, already starting to grow tired.

  “I want more men posted inside the Block. At least another twenty.”

  Travis frowned. “Sophie, at the risk of sounding callous, I need those men watching the markets. I put them in the Block, I leave the streets unprotected. Anyone like the Gun Runners would take one look and see easy pickings, and if they see it’s easy to take over the streets of Travistown, they’ll try their hand at getting into the Block. As good as my men are, they’ll have a harder time winning a war in a confined space. I’m doing everything I can.”

  “I don’t believe you are,” said Sophie stubbornly. “Don’t forget, Travis, my word carries a lot of power in this place. People listen to what I have to say. I’ve spent years building up goodwill on your behalf. It’ll only take a few well-chosen words from me to undo all of that.”

  The expression on Travis’s face didn’t change at all. She had half expected – and hoped – that he would burst into a rage, but then he would buy into her logic.

  “That sounds like a threat,” he said pointedly.

  “No, just stating the obvious. Never thought I’d have to with you,” said Sophie. “I supported you that day when you went on about what a great community we would be and what would happen to those that tried to undo it. I’m just trying to get you to honor your promises.”

  Travis sighed. “Okay. I don’t want it to seem as if I’m passing the buck. I need to speak to the captain of the guard. I’ll ask if he can spare a few men, but I can’t promise anything. I’ll do my best, okay?”

  Sophie knew that his answer translated as ‘take it or leave it.’ Satisfied that she’d exerted her influence over Travis, she said, ‘thank you’ and started to make her way back to her apartment.

  *

  Sophie was running as fast as she could, trying to make her way home. She was calling out for somebody – anybody – to come and help her, but no one came. The Block was supposed to house fifty people, yet she felt completely alone.

  She wasn’t alone.

  Even though only minutes had passed, it felt like an eternity since she’d turned into the staircase, coming across the stranger standing a few feet in front of her. The first thing she noticed was the strange device in his hand that looked like some sort of a weapon. She was to find out later that the device was a portable flamethrower. When the stranger began to talk, it dawned on her that she was going to die.

  She ran. The figure wasn’t in a hurry to catch her. Sophie ran up three flights of stairs, hoping to evade her pursuer.

  Finally, she reached the floor that led to her apartment and ran inside, opening the door and bolting it shut behind her.

  Sophie pressed herself against the front door, looking through the peephole for any signs of life, listening for footsteps.

  There were none. The only sound that could be heard was the gushing of the storm outside.

  Sophie allowed herself a moment to relax, moving away from the door…bumping into something as she did.

  “Boo,” came a silken voice.

  Before Sophie had time to react, she felt something sharp plunge into her back. She tried to scream, but a hand covered her mouth, holding it in place as she fell to the floor.

  As she lay on her floor, blood pouring out of her, Sophie watched as the figure went over to the door, to check the lock was in place. “Thank you for making sure we wouldn’t be interrupted.”

  “What…do…you…want?” managed Sophie.

  “I want this…” the figure held up a pile of sand, “…inside you. I want you to see how I can transform you. You’ll be worth more as my masterpiece than any life you’ve lived before now.”

  Sophie heard the words but refused to acknowledge the meaning. Instead, her fingers grasped the floor, desperately trying to find something she could use as a weapon. But she could only clutch at thin air.

  “You might want to scream,'' said the figure. “Although I’ve got a bit of a headache coming on, so I’ll thank you for keeping it down. If you do want to scream down the entire block…” He held up a small razor blade. “I’ll make you eat one of these. So, it’s this, or sand? What’s your preference?”

  Sophie looked up, horrified, trying to decide which death would be less excruciating than the other, but it seemed either option would serve this man’s perverse fantasies.

  She watched as the man hovered the flamethrower, now alight, over her body, with one hand. He was holding an open pouch of sand in the other.

&nbs
p; “Open wide,” he instructed, tipping the bag over.

  CHAPTER 10 - VINCENT

  Lea and Vincent rode on horseback out of the city. Travis had employed people to outline a pathway visible for anyone traveling out of Travistown. It was tireless work and was almost always undone by the next storm. Therefore, the job would usually fall to those miscreants who’d been found breaking Travis’s laws. This wasn’t a job that would rope in volunteers.

  Lea rode quickly, half-hoping that she’d lose Vincent, hating his very presence. It was like having a babysitter.

  Vincent had been with Travis much longer than Lea had, although, at one point, they’d been on opposing sides of the conflict. Vincent had been selling counterfeit weapons to aspiring gangsters competing for the control of Travistown, but somehow, Travis had been able to sway Vincent to his side. Lea had asked Travis numerous times why he kept Vincent around and how he could be so sure that Vincent wouldn’t turn on him the first chance he got. Travis had always answered those questions the same way. “That’s a matter between me and Vincent.”

  She kept trying to tell herself that Travis’s faith in Vincent wasn’t misplaced, pushing back the idea that mixing with his old buddies would tempt Vincent back to the other side.

  Vincent rode up next to her. “Unless you want to be running in circles, I suggest you let me lead the way.”

  Lea agreed, despite her internal protest.

  They were now headed out into what looked like an endless stretch of desert. It was hard to imagine anyone would be setting up shop out here. It looked completely untouched by civilization.

  “So, how are we supposed to find these people?” asked Lea, impatiently. “Is there some kind of secret code I need to be aware of?”

  Vincent rolled his eyes beneath the goggles. “They’re not that clandestine. You’ll know them when you see them.”

  Suddenly, something exploded inside the flank of Lea’s horse.

  The poor beast reared up on its hind legs, knocking Lea to the ground. The animal stamped about, clearly in agonizing pain, and Lea had to swerve out of its way to avoid being crushed. As the creature twisted and turned, Lea could see a gaping hole in the side of its body that had broken through the protective covering.

  Lea then looked around to try to find the cause of the explosion. She could see something in the distance, coming closer and closer.

  Too late to react, Lea watched with horror as the flying object buried itself into her horse’s body, this time knocking it onto its side where it lay, twitching, its life flickering away like a lightbulb on the verge of extinguishing.

  Vincent stretched out his hand. “Come on!” he instructed. “They know we’re here. Unless you want to go the same way as your horse, we’ve got to keep moving!”

  Lea took Vincent’s hand and allowed him to help her onto the back of his horse. They galloped forward, just in time to avoid another black ball that shot right past them.

  Vincent forced his horse to forge ahead, but rather than riding in a straight line, he had the horse zigzagging across the desert. Any black balls that followed were a narrow miss.

  As they drew closer, Lea could see a man holding what looked like a projectile weapon aimed right at them. Thinking quickly, she reached into her bag, taking out one of the grenades Bob had supplied her. She squeezed the ball, hard enough to rupture it. She had just enough time to feel the heat burning through her glove before she lobbed it towards the shooter.

  It didn’t even reach the ground. Instead, it exploded in his chest.

  They were too far away to see the extent of the damage, although they could see the figure falling out of sight.

  As they got nearer, Vincent halted the horse’s mad dash, slung himself off, and walked slowly over to the prone body. Needles were covering his entire upper body and face, one of which had embedded in his left eye. “Holy crap,” whispered Vincent, “Bob knows how to make a creative kill.”

  Suddenly, the man started sputtering, and blood burst from his mouth. Vincent looked to Lea expectantly. “Well, what are you waiting for? The man’s in agony. Let him die with some dignity intact at least.”

  Lea remained seated on the horse, her eyes were frozen at the sight before her. “Oh, for God’s sake!” exclaimed Vincent as he got closer to the man. He then raised his foot, before bringing it down hard on the man’s throat, killing him instantly. Vincent looked up to Lea disapprovingly. “So, is it only cold-blooded killing you’ve got the stomach for?” he asked sharply.

  Recovering from the distress of seeing the man being slaughtered, Lea said, “You seriously going to give me a lecture on morality? I don’t know why Travis trusts you so much, but I do know that a tiger doesn’t change its stripes.”

  Before Vincent could respond, a voice could be heard through a loudspeaker. “Hands in the air. Now.”

  Both Lea and Vincent promptly raised their hands, Lea hoping that the horse wouldn’t up and leave.

  For a moment, nothing happened, but then, a group of men emerged into view. All of them appeared armed. Lea looked around to find an escape route, but it was no use, they were surrounded. She wondered how long they’d been there.

  Either way, it was as though she and Vincent had never stood a chance at all.

  She couldn’t make out the weapons they were holding but knew any sudden moves that she and Vincent made would endanger them both.

  “Vincent?” A female voice rang out. Vincent, who had by this point been embracing the idea of death, looked in the direction of the voice.

  A woman stepped forward. She had a shaved head and a tattoo of an eye on her forehead. A mask covered her face, but Lea could easily make out the smile.

  “Audrey? Is that you?” said Vincent warmly, moving over to the woman to embrace her in a hug. Lea looked on, baffled by the scene. Audrey waved her hand, and her men automatically lowered their weapons.

  “What brings you out here?” asked Audrey. “Finally seen the light?” She looked up at Lea. “And who’s this supposed to be? You haven’t got a daughter, have you?”

  “No, no, just a stray Travis likes to keep around.”

  Indignant, Lea reached into her bag. “This stray could easily send you on the same road to hell as your friend.”

  “She’s got some bite in her,” said Audrey. “I think I like her.” She turned her full attention to Vincent, all business-like. “Now, these gentlemen have been itching for an opportunity to test out their new weapons. So, unless you want to give them an excuse to do so, I’d advise you to make the explanation you were about to give me phenomenally good.”

  “One of our local farmers has been murdered, and it’s not pretty. It looks like the actions of some sadistic psycho who seems to take pleasure in staging his victims like a gruesome piece of glass art. Death by glass. It’s horrific. We believe he could strike again at any time,” said Vincent. “There’s no method, no justification. We need to put a stop to him.”

  One of the soldiers approached Audrey and Vincent, separating the two. “Why the hell should we help you, turncoat?”

  “Ah, Jimmy,” said Vincent, smiling. “Still on the waiting list for that personality transplant?”

  “If it were up to me, we’d have shot that mouth of yours.”

  “Well, then, lucky for me it’s not up to you.”

  “He’s got a point,” said Audrey, putting a hand on Josh’s shoulder. “This death was on Travis’s territory. Why should the Gun Runners be getting involved?”

  CHAPTER 11 – BLAZER

  “You’re right,” said Vincent smoothly. So smoothly, Lea wondered if he’d rehearsed this beforehand. “You’re under no obligation to help us. You’d probably be well within your rights to kill us both and wait for the storms to bury us.

  “But Travis isn’t exactly the forgiving type. He looks after his own. If we go missing, do you think he'll take long to put two and two together? And that’s not even getting started with the Sculptor.”

  “Sculptor?”
repeated Audrey. “Who or what the hell is the ‘Sculptor’?”

  “That’s the name that’s been given to the killer,” explained Lea.

  Audrey simply looked bored. “You know, maybe I’m being dumb…but I’m having a hard time catching on to why this is my problem. Travis can’t control his people and somehow, that’s got something to do with us?”

  Standing her ground, Lea continued. “We believe his murder weapon was a high-tech flamethrower. No one in Travistown possesses this kind of equipment. Which means the only other person he could have gotten that equipment from is you.”

  Lea thought she could make out the faintest twitch on Audrey’s face.

  “We’re trying to stop him before anyone else is killed. If Travis can’t find the suspect himself, he’ll want to take it out on the people who armed him.” Vincent moved closer to Audrey, seeing that she was being taken in by Lea’s words.

  “Of course, there is another way. You and I both know that Travis is a big fan of the ‘everybody wins’ scenario. So, you tell us what you sold and who you sold it to, then we’ll leave you in peace and you’re free to go about your business, have your little get-togethers without Travis’s interruptions, and we put one more psycho out of business. That way, everyone’s a winner.”

  Audrey pondered it over, weighing up the pros and cons in her head. “Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll tell you what I know, but I want your guarantee that we’ll be kept out of this. If Travis thinks we’ve been conducting our business on his land —”

  “Have you?” asked Lea, in a raised voice. “You know the laws. If you don’t want to be a part of Travistown, you keep out.”

  “Girl doesn’t miss a beat,” said Audrey, turning to Lea. “We’re the closest thing to a private military in this world. We need to keep ourselves going. If we kept our business to only the outskirts of Travistown, we’d never pick up any business. Surely Travis can see that?” She turned back to Vincent. “Walk with me. Keep the girl on a leash.”